


A Grudge In Detroit

by ThatScottishShipper



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Ju-on: The Grudge (2002)
Genre: Child Death, Curses, Ghosts, Gift Fic, Grief/Mourning, Hank - Freeform, Hank Anderson Swears, Haunted Houses, M/M, Mentions of Family Murder, Murder Mystery, The Grudge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24011557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/pseuds/ThatScottishShipper
Summary: Determined to uncover information on the mysterious disappearances and deaths of local girls, Hank and Connor visit the abandoned home they were seen in together.The abandoned home that is home to a curse born of a murdered family.*Written for Three Day Rental: Round 1.*
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12
Collections: Three Day Rental: A Horror Themed Flash Exchange Round 1





	A Grudge In Detroit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kameiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kameiko/gifts).



“Anything, Connor?”

Long faded blood stains, and digitally uploaded evidence markers were the only things the RK800 Android uncovered in the long abandoned home. As Hank awaited him at the foot of a wooden stairwell, arms crossed impatiently, Connor shook his head.

“Nothing.” He stood beside his Partner, still surveying the spacious living area. “At least nothing recent. And this is definitely the address in the report. You?”

“Fat lot of nothing,” Hank grunted. “Stripped the whole place from top to bottom, but no sign of ‘em.”

With a weary sigh, Hank unfolded his arms, and tucked his cold hands into his pockets.  _ ‘Fuck me. It’s been too long a week, and I don’t get paid enough to piss around, working overtime for nothing.’ _

Reading Hank’s mind, Connor shot him that look when he wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. His chocolate brown eyes widened, and the head tilted just a little.

“Five minutes?  _ Please _ , Hank?”

The Lieutenant’s breath caught in his throat. “...Fine. Five minutes, then we’re leaving.”

Connor smiled curtly, then dashed off, eager to soak up clues like a bloodhound. Regretfully, his attempts were just as unsuccessful as the first, yielding no evidence to what brought them there to begin with.

_ ‘A group of school girls, gone missing or found dead after portraying conspicuous behaviour. And it all started in this house.’ _

A bedroom for a child, with faded superhero comics and dusty video game cartridges, told part of a story, one Connor replayed over and over in his head since they arrived.

A vengeful father who murdered his wife and child before taking his own life, decades before.

Connor had brushed off Gavin and Ben’s supernatural jest about ‘a curse’ that befell anyone who entered the old Harrison Street property, but what the Android was unable to ignore was Hank.

His Partner was always a source of fascination, awake and asleep. Every little thing sparked a curiosity stimulating his senses beyond stability. But since getting word they were investigating the Murder House, Hank grew morose.

Connor suspected the reason.

_ ‘His son.’  _ He walked back into the lobby, unable to shake the image of a crying detective at a table, holding a photograph.  _ ‘Perhaps it hits a little too close to home for him.’ _

As the Android reached the bannisters overlooking the living area, passing photographs of a once happy family, Connor looked down at a part of his own with a smile.

He stopped.

To Connor’s surprise, Hank was not alone, something he was very much aware of. The man stared across the room towards the foot of the stairwell where a child sat.

A child with sunshine fair hair and baby blue eyes that pierced into the Lieutenant’s soul.

Hank’s heart squeezed, tears pricking at his eyes. “...oh.”

Readying himself to intervene at any moment, though he did not quite know why, Connor watched as his soft Partner made his way closer.

“Hey there.” The Lieutenant smiled softly at the children, his paternal instincts radiating. “Do you live here?”

The child said nothing, clutching at the wooden bannisters warily. It made Connor wonder what exactly put the child on edge? Perhaps the absence of his parents or guardians? Strangers in his home? Or some unspeakable horror he had witnessed.

But if there was one thing he knew without certainty, it was that Hank was swiftly becoming personal.

“...Hank.”

The Lieutenant knelt down on the bottom steps, peering up at the child. “My name’s Hank. This is Connor. What’s your name?”

Again, silence.

“You don’t have to be scared, son.” Hank shivered at the emotion of his own words. He tried to blink away the tears, wanting to be strong for this lonely child. “Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise.”

Connor should have been focused on identifying the child and keeping an eye on their surroundings, but in the moment, Hank was his priority. His quickening heartbeat. The gentleness on his face, softening his eyes, and the makings of a smile he hadn’t seen outside old photographs.

And Connor’s own growing unease rattling inside his Thirium pump.

“Come on. Let’s go, son.”

Hank held his large hand out, beckoning the boy to take it. Cautiously, the child did, and the Lieutenant led him down the final few stairs towards the front door.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

As Hank led the boy out, Connor took the initiative to scan the child for identification purposes, anything to ease the dread inside him. It was then that the boy turned his head to stare at Connor.

At the sight of bright blue eyes startlingly similar to Hank, the Android froze. Instead of a stream of information updating Connor, there was nothingness. Static, unsatisfactory black nothing.

Before Connor could open his mouth, the child beat him to it with a long, wail akin to a screeching cat. A flash of information finally flooded his senses with such intensity, he collapsed onto his knees.

_ Underwater. Hands. Neck. Anger. Diary. Betrayal. Husband. Strangled. Drowning. Pain. _

A rattling cry from the throat of someone dying a most terrible death.

And a red ring never ending, trapped, trapped, _ I’m trapped, I can’t, please, Hank, save me _

“Connor?”

The RK800 snapped out of the strange experience, with Hank gazing at him worryingly. Those strong hands touched his shoulders, rousing him back to reality.

“...Hank.”

Trembling, Connor grabbed Hank’s hand, tugging him onto his feet, and behind him. He had to protect Hank, the only thing that mattered to him, his determined glare falling upon…

Nothing.

The Partners stood alone, no sign of the small boy ever being present except the cold dread he left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Three Day Rental: Round 1 for Kameiko. Prompt chosen was The Grudge because I immediately had this idea of everyone’s favourite Detroit cops investigating a house for reasons and uncovering spooky shenanigans.
> 
> I also really took to the idea of Hank getting emotional about a child that reminds him of Cole, which leads to conflict, and how the curse word affect Connor. It’s a short piece, but I hope it does the job.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. 💙


End file.
